Constant Things
by TheCivilState
Summary: Elijah was always a few steps behind it.  It was the only constant thing in their lives.


_We pass just close enough to touch_ _No questions, no answers_

They stood at the edge of the pentagram carved into the earth as nature raged around them. Bonnie and Esther stood in the middle with Finn, ever his mother's guardian, who kept watch as the witches chanted in unison.

Elena couldn't feel betrayed; she understood Bonnie's choice. That didn't stop the twinge of pain she felt when Elijah's arm brushed her own as he stepped around her. His fingers brushed the back of her hand and she wanted to believe it wasn't some accident. She wanted to believe he was reaching out to her, asking her to hold him steady, to tether him to something real and tangible that wouldn't fall away.

But then Damon and Stefan were at her side, pulling her away as the wind died and Bonnie's heart was ripped from her chest by Katherine, whose own heart fell to the ground when Finn dropped it from his hand. The Salvatores- _saviors- _led her away as the Originals dealt with their 'family business'.

_With only simple words_ _With only subtle turns_ _The things we feel alone for one another_

"Come in," she said, stepping away from the door and welcoming him into her home. Elijah stepped into the house that was warm and inviting and so distinctly Elena.

Ric and Damon were at the bar and Stefan, well, Elena found she could not care about Stefan very much as she led Elijah into the kitchen where she was cooking. Or at least attempting to cook. She relinquished her hold on the kitchen when Elijah stepped in to salvage the meal. She found she didn't care too much. She liked watching him handle the knives with ease and when he'd lift the wooden spoon from the pot and hold it out for her to try, he would cup his hand beneath her lips, fingers brushing against her skin.

They never ate. Elena's cooking was not salvageable, but neither of them cared. There were more important things in live and chili was not one of them.

_I won't sleep if you won't sleep tonight_

They were laying side by side in her bed, Elena on her stomach with her cheek resting against her folded hands. She was watching him, taking in every detail and committing it to memory. He was doing the same.

She yawned on occasion and he thought once or twice about compelling her to sleep. She needed it. They both did. But neither of them were willing to close their eyes. They were both afraid the other would disappear if they did.

Elijah stayed with her until Ric's heavy footfalls could be heard. That was when Elena closed her eyes and buried her head into her hands. She didn't want to watch him leave; he didn't want to let her go.

_We keep this secret in our blood_

"Elena, drink." Her eyes fluttered as something warm and sticky was pressed to her lips. She drank without question, recognizing the voice that was giving the command. Her body felt like a paper doll cut up and put back together. The pain didn't last long as she realized the warm substance she was consuming was Elijah's blood. She tried to shove his arm away, but he refused, holding her and forcing her to continue to drink until he was satisfied she would live.

He carried away from the massacre she had witnessed and did not leave her alone until his blood passed through her system. Even then he was only ever a few steps behind her.

_We hide within our veins_ _The things that keep us bound to one another_

"Elijah!" Her delight and surprise melded together as Elena opened the door of her apartment and found the Original, unchanged since their last meeting, standing before her. He took in her hair haphazardly braided over one shoulder and her worn in jeans. She looked comfortable, happy, _alive. _He smiled and nodded his head politely.

"I read your book," he said, producing the copy he had purchased the moment it arrived in bookstores. Elena blushed and ducked her head, taking the book and staring at the cover. _Nine Lives, _the title read and while the heroine of the story would live forever, Elena was confined to just this life. That knowledge hadn't bothered her until Elijah arrived.

"Come on in," she said, opening the door wider for him to pass. His arm brushed hers and his fingers grazed the back of her hand. She liked to think it was intentional. Liked to think he was trying to tether himself to her. She would let him. She couldn't resist.

"I learned to cook," she proclaimed and let him into the kitchen where she was preparing dinner. They ended up ordering Chinese food and sitting on the floor of her apartment as they stared out at the city skyline. He told her how the world used to be. She wrote about it in her next book.

_Until the last resilient hope_ _Is frozen deep inside my bones_ _And this broken fate has claimed me_

"Come with me?" she pleaded, waving a travel guide of Spain in his face, "I don't speak Spanish and I don't want some strange translator following me everywhere I go. I'll pay you." A business arrangement. Something sturdy and reliable and familiar to Elijah who was always 'business as usual.'

"Besides," she said, "We've always had fun in Spain." He agreed to go. She knew the minute she had asked that he would, but still liked to keep up the illusion that they weren't somehow inexplicably bound to one another.

They ate crepes and he taught her how to say "I love you" in every language she could think of. She would only ever remember how to say it in English.

_Your name is pounding through my veins_ _Can't you hear how it is sung?_

"And the award goes to, Elena Gilbert!" She stood amid thunderous applaud as the cameras zoomed in for her reaction. Eyes watering and smile bright as the stars, she walked through the crowd of well wishes and accepted the award presented to her. As she stared out over the sea of faces all smiling at her accomplishments, she felt her eyes being drawn to one of the darkened corners in the back of the room. She couldn't see him, but she knew he was there, watching her, always a few steps behind. So as she stepped down from the stage, she whispered, hoping he would hear her over the crowd.

"I love you."

Her apartment was empty as always, but her table was now adorned with casablanca lilies and a ticket to Spain. She went for a month and ended up staying for two years.

_I can taste you in my mouth_ _Before the words escape my lungs_ _And I'll whisper only once…_

"Elijah!" She sat in the coffee shop, finally stateside after her many years abroad, looking older than he ever imagined she would be.

Her hair had been cut short a few months earlier and she was in the process of growing it out, tucking the wayward strands behind her ears. There were a few wrinkles around her eyes, but her smile was the same. She embraced him and kissed his cheek before pulling him into the booth beside him.

"I missed you," she said, resting her hand on his arm. He caught sight of the engagement ring adorning her finger and smiled.

Meanwhile, his heart was breaking.

_There is a secret that we keep_ _I won't sleep if you won't sleep_ _Because tonight may be the last chance we'll be given_

"I can't believe I'm getting married tomorrow," she sighed, laying her veil down on her vanity as she turned to face him. He sat at the edge of her bed, watching as she tried to make herself appear more radiant than she already was.

"I have a request to make," she said, coming to sit beside him. At one point, she had almost asked him to walk her down the aisle knowing she wouldn't be strong enough to do it on her own. But then she realized how cruel that would be and squashed the idea, deciding she could be brave as she had once been and make the trip on her own.

"Stay with me?"

They spent the night side by side, watching one another as the moon rose into the sky, casting silver shards of light over their faces. His eyes remained unblinking as hers slowly drifted shut. This time she needed to sleep. There was an important event in the morning that she couldn't miss. She couldn't spend all her time with Elijah anymore, no matter how much she often wished she could.

Her hand rose to trace the contours of his face, a sleepy smile spreading across her own. She yawned and covered her mouth, burrowing deeper into the warmth of her bed.

"I'm almost the same age as you," she said, "A few more years and I'll be older."

It was not a true statement and they both knew it. Elijah would forever be the eldest of them, but Elena would be the one to live the longest. She was brave enough to live. Elijah was not. Not without her.

_We are compelled to do what we have to_

Elena stood in her wedding gown, a new ring on her left hand proclaiming to the world that she was a married woman. That she was taken. Somewhere downstairs in the ballroom, the party raged on without noticing the bride had disappeared. Except Elijah. He was always a few steps behind.

"I can't believe I'm married," she whispered into the night. He stood beside her, arms brushing and his fingers grazing the back of her hand. After all this time he was still trying to find something solid to hold onto. Was still trying to hold onto her.

"You finally have the life you wanted," he said. A salty smell filled the air and he turned to see Elena dashing away a few tears.

"No it's not," she said, voice cracking. He handed her the handkerchief she had purchased for him back in Spain a few years ago. She took it gratefully and dabbed gently at her eyes, careful not to ruin her makeup.

"You never wanted to be a vampire." She stared up at him, hair longer than he liked it and piled up beneath her veil. Her fathomless brown eyes were drowning him and he would've gladly died in that moment had she been the one to kill him.

"I would've been one for you."

She grasped the back of his head and crashed her lips against his. It was a rough, bruising kissed filled with desperation, pain, and broken promises. She sobbed into his mouth and he gently pushed her away, his thumb smoothing over her collarbone.

"You will be happy," he promised. She closed her eyes because she couldn't see him leave. She'd never been strong enough to watch him turn away from her and while everything else had changed, at least that was a constant.

The newly married Elena Bishop opened her eyes and found herself alone, nothing but a handkerchief to remind her she hadn't always been alone. But while the handkerchief was familiar, she couldn't remember where it had come from.

'_Cause you will be somebody's girl_ _And you will keep each other warm_ _But tonight I am feeling cold_

Elena Bishop passed away a few decades later. As always, Elijah was a few steps behind.

**a/n: **I don't own anything except my ideas. And the song was another suggested thing that I wrote a fic for… I tend to do that a lot.

Fave, flame, faint.

_[song fic inspired by "The Secret's In The Telling" by Dashboard Confessional]_

_oxox_


End file.
